2P Hetalia: World War III
by Helpfulmiss
Summary: All of the countries seemed to be at peace. It was a prosperous time! Until the talk of war begins to spread. But who started the rumor? And will it actually happen? Read to find out. ((Contains some non-canon pairings)) You can find art/comics that go with this story on my DA Page! (I'm Insanity-10)
1. Introduction

**Introduction**

All of the countries seemed to be at peace. It was a prosperous time! The Afghanistan War was coming to a close, allowing America to have some much needed time with some Hamburgers. France, Germany, and Italy's land was being filled by America's tourists, taking pictures of the many beautiful sights the countries held. Japan and China were extremely successful in technology, creating new advances everyday. But Russia's cold was the same old cold. And England's food was the same old...bland. Sure, some countries' economies were failing a little, and some bosses were being jerks but the countries all believed this would be a nice, quiet peacetime. And it was, for a short while.


	2. Chapter 1: Unexpected Training

**Chapter 1: Unexpected Training**

"Germany!" Italy ran over to his big, blonde friend; wrapping his arms tightly around his friend's waist. Germany tried keeping his uptight figure but couldn't help but pat his old friend on the head.

"It's nice to see you, Italy." Italy smiled at Germany but Germany was looking to the right. Italy let go of Germany seeing a figure coming from the shadow of a flowering tree.

"Hello. Long time no see." Japan didn't even have a chance to bow before Italy knocked him to the ground with an immense hug. Germany grinned. Japan was...uncomfortable, but happy.

"It's been forever since I've seen you guys! I don't think I've eaten pasta with you two since World War II!" Italy finally let go of Japan.

"Yes, my apologies for never scheduling a meet-up. I have been quite busy with the technology age, you know?" Japan cleaned himself up after falling to the ground.

"I have been quite busy with tourists myself," Germany said with a sigh. "They're alot of work. Especially the American ones." Italy smiled.

"American tourists are funny! And they love my food!" But of course, who wouldn't like Italy's pizza and pasta.

The countries were meeting in their old training spot from World War II. The trees have grown taller, and the grass have grown greener. Germany called the two countries there for an important meeting but a casual one.

"What is the matter we must discuss?" Japan asked Germany.

"Training." Japan tried to keep a straight face but was obviously very confused.

"Ve! Training for what?" Italy thought it was a pasta-eating contest, or perhaps a pasta-cooking contest!

"For war" The country's smile straightened out and he looked at Germany, confused. He opened his eyes with concern. Japan was able to keep his composure but his mouth dropped a little.

"War! What war? Oh no!" Italy screamed as he ran in circles around Germany, throwing his hands in the air.

"But who declared it? I thought that we were surely at a peaceful time." Japan looked down in thought of who it could be.

"No one, yet." Italy stopped immediately and reverted back to his cheery self.

"Germany, you jokester! You scared me!" Italy laughed and started poking Germany's shoulder. But Germany grabbed his finger before he could poke him for a third time.

"But it is a perfect time to prepare for a war. Peacetimes do not last long and I can feel tensions rising between Britain, and I once again."

"No silly! That's all in your head."

"And we are no longer the Axis Powers. World War II was about seventy years ago!" Japan stated.

"We lost! We lost because we were not prepared! I have learned over the course of all these wars that preparation leads to power. It is all about preparation." Germany glanced at Italy who looked like a puppy waiting for a command. "We do not have to declare war. But if we do some training, we'll at least be ready for it when it comes. Besides, I already have lots of experience with you two so training should be quite easy." Italy was reluctant, remembering how strenuous and boring training was for WWII. But then again, he got to hang out with his two best friends.

"Ok! I don't mind!" Japan nodded.

"I am also in agreement." Germany smiled.

"Ist Good. Now both of you line up and count off!"

* * *

America was eating a hamburger at his desk when he got a text on his cellphone. From "Arthur Kirkland" The message read: "Hey America. I need to talk with you. Could we meet sometime today, maybe at your place. There's quite some rain here." America couldn't help but laugh at the message. When is there not rain in England's land.

He texted back "Sure! I'll buy us some Ice Cream!"

"Oh Joy..."

England arrived with a formal suit completely contrasting America's white t-shirt and basketball shorts. America was gulping down a whole gallon of ice cream while England sat in depressing silence in his chair. Even America, who usually can't sense the mood, could tell something was up.

"What's the matter?"

"War. War is the matter." America nearly choked on his ice cream.

"Dude! You're kidding! Who?"

"Germany and I have been having some quarrels recently. I heard that he might declare war on me."

"Who told you that?"

"Well, I just had a feeling." England shifted positions in his chair. He was obviously, not wanting to tell him who really informed England of this rumor.

"England, something I learned over my long life is that you shouldn't listen to your 'feelings.'"

"America, you're still a kid. I've lived a lot longer than you."

"Kid! Oh come on, I am not a kid! I'm far more mature than you are!" England flew out of his chair, right in front of America.

"Says who! I'm mature because I'm the gentleman!" And their argumentative bantering continued as if the war discussion never even happened.


	3. Chapter 2: Power is Everything

**Chapter 2: Power is Everything**

Italy and Japan did sit-ups while Germany timed. It was the third day of training for them and it's been the toughest so far.

"You two have grown lazy over these past years." Italy panted as he continued to curl himself up and down. Japan was sweating, pushing himself nearly to his limits. Italy was able to do twenty-one while Japan did twenty-eight. Germany sighed and handed the timer to Japan.

"Time me." Germany was able to fit in forty-eight sit-ups within the one minute time and he wasn't even pleased. "We all got lazy."

Germany was acting even more serious and persistent then usual. Something was bothering him severely. He usually strived for perfection but now he was striving beyond perfection. Germany yelled at Italy and Japan to do it again and again and again. Then he asked them to run for two miles and return, which would make it four miles total. No food, no water. By now, Japan has started to become dehydrated and dizzy while Italy's stomach was boiling with hunger. He tried to complain to Germany but it wasn't working. Germany would ignore them. By the time they were at the end of their run and almost to Germany, Japan collapsed on the ground. Italy turned around.

"Japan!" He tried helping him up but Japan shook him off.

"I am alright, just go to Germany. Maybe he'll give us some water." Italy and Japan struggled to walk the way back to Germany.

"This is unacceptable. It would have taken me half as long to make it from there and back!" Germany wasn't cutting them any slack.

"Germany, can we please take a break!" Italy whined. Japan nodded but said no words. Germany growled tugging Italy's shirt, pulling him towards Germany's face.

"Listen to me and listen to me good! Power is the only way to win a war. If you're powerless, then you are sure to lose a war. And right now, us three are powerless. We can't be lazy slackers anymore!" Italy's eyes were open and his face was pale. He was terrified. He knew something was terribly wrong with Germany. Germany threw Italy down to the ground and glared at Japan.

"Five minutes. Get water. Come back and run that again."

Italy sniffed and started crying but not a loud, obnoxious one. A solemn cry both Japan and Germany have never heard before. Japan ran to Italy.

"I've always been powerless. I'm the most powerless country in the world." Italy hid his head behind his knees and quietly sobbed while Japan went to get some water to bring to him. Germany watched Italy closely. Germany felt guilty, very guilty. But he had no choice.

* * *

England called a private meeting between the allies at the world conference hall. Everyone was quite surprised by the last minute notice.

"Why did you call us so last minute! I have so many better things to be doing right now." France complained.

"Oh shut it. Look, I know this was last minute but I must inform you all of some important information." England sighed and looked down at his notes. "I believe that Germany have reassembled the Axis and are planning to wage war against us." Everyone in the room was in shock.

"What! But it is so peaceful now. Why would they declare war against us, aru?" China got up from his chair. China was perhaps one of the most prosperous of the allies, besides America. His industries were booming and his economy was in great shape so the idea of war completely left his mind.

"I know, it is quite a shock to me too, but yes. They are training themselves as we speak but have yet to declare war. Perhaps we should make the first move."

"Dude wait. Maybe we shouldn't jump to decisions so quickly" America stood up and began pacing around the room. "I mean, think about it guys. We haven't had any major conflicts with them since World War II, why would they just start training for war? Maybe they're fighting some other country?"

"No, they're fighting us!" England slammed the table.

"Yeah, says your 'feelings!'"

"No, I actually have a living source!"

"Oh yeah, who?" England sighed. He still didn't want to tell him it was his new imaginary friend who was telling him all this.

"It was...Scotland! He said he spotted them when he was on his business trip." America shut his mouth and sat back down. America couldn't tell he was lying but France could, yet he decided to keep his mouth shut.

"So what should we do?" Russia asked.

"We still shouldn't make the first move. We should wait to see what their motives for war are first." America looked around the room, waiting to see if the others would agree.

"Yes, I agree," China replied.

"Me too." Russia nodded.

"Me as well." France looked at England to see if he would agree, even though he'd be outvoted. England was frustrated, he started clenching his fists.

"I can see that you all are against my ideas today. Fine, go with America's plan, but I'm doing things on my own." England gets up and stomps out of the room but America grabs his sleeve before he can get out of the room.

"England, no. You're a part of the allies. We work together on things. How about when we do find the motives, we'll let you make the attack plans." America talked to him as if England were an immature child. This made England even more frustrated and he was on the verge of punching America in the face.

"You don't understand." He pulled himself free of America's grip and left the room, slamming the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 3: The Source of the Problems

**Chapter 3: The Source of the Problems**

Germany returned home after another hard day of training. Italy and Japan have been working harder after the confrontation. Germany still felt terrible for scaring Italy so badly. But if Germany lost this war, he knew something bad would happen to him. He learned this from a source. A source that has been visiting him in his dreams.

Germany was reluctant to go to bed. He knew the voice would appear to him again tonight to harass him. But he needed a good rest so he'd be ready for tomorrow. He lied down and slowly dozed off into a deep sleep.

"You all are still not good enough." The voice rang through Germany's head.

"We're trying our best!" Germany was surrounded by an eternal darkness. The voice seemed omniscience, it was no where to be seen. His voice resembled Germany's but it was more sharp, and cold.

"Perhaps threatening them will help! Or whipping them." The voice had no remorse. It was dead serious.

"I would never do that to them. They're my friends."

"Friends? When did Ludwig ever have friends? They're simply your underlings, your minions!"

"Stop!" Germany fell to his knees and covered his ears with his hands. The words burnt him. He loved Italy and Japan. He couldn't imagine them as his minions yet a small part of his mind has strayed to the idea many times before.

"If you don't want them as your minions then you should kill them off! They won't help you with the war against England anyway." The voice talked as if he had no soul. He talked like killing someone was a normal, everyday act. Germany grind his teeth in anger at the voice but he had nothing to attack. His enemy was invisible to him.

"Now, about that war with England. I say we bomb him before he gets the chance to attack us! Bomb him right at London. Secretly at night, where no one will expect it. And if you still want to keep those little minions, ask them to cut England's access to resources. He'll suffocate." The voice chuckled a low, menacing laugh.

"You're sick! He may be my enemy but that torture is far too twisted."

"Says the one who gassed millions in World War II." Germany sighed. He made a good point. Germany rubbed his forehead in frustration and regret. He never wanted to be the villain in World War II. It was the voice in his head. That sadistic voice. And now he has returned.

"But you're the one who told me to." The voice paused but began laughing again.

"Yes, but I am you Ludwig." Germany looked up confused. A flash of red woke him from his dream. He was sweating. That was what he has been experiencing for the past several days. He squeezed his pillow and thought about what the voice said. "But I am you Germany." It rang through him and gave him chills.

* * *

England ran to his home in the rain. His tears were mixed in with the rain. When he got home, flying mint bunny greeted him.

"What's the matter?"

"Everything." He leaned against the door and sunk to the ground in depression. A few leprechauns came to him to cheer him up along with his fairies. Even Captain Hook and Uni were comforting the sad England.

"Is Oliver here?" England lifted his head.

"No, thankfully." Captain hook looked around as he spoke. Suddenly, a fairy gasped. The leprechauns ran away in fear.

"I can hear his footsteps," Uni said reluctantly. She started backing away from England along with all his other friends. England banged his head on the door.

"Damn."

The footsteps slowly got louder but nothing could be seen. England couldn't see Oliver. Oliver was an invisible imaginary friend. England's visible imaginary friends are terrified of him.

"Hello, my dear Arthur!" The voice sounded like England's but it was cheery in a creepy way. Like the voice of a clown. England sighed.

"The Allies didn't agree on having the first move."

"Oh, what a shame. I guess you'll just have to kill them then!" England looked in the direction of the voice in shock.

"Excuse me?"

"Kill them! They aren't helping you anyway! It'll be fun!" The voice was even more happy after mentioning killing.

"Oliver! What the bloody hell! I'm not killing them."

"Awwww, why not?"

"Are you sick in the head? I love them all! And America's my brother!"

"No, he's only your adopted brother. You found him remember?"

"I still consider him my brother."

"You shouldn't. Kill him, cut him into a million pieces!" The voice wasn't cheery anymore. It was dark and low. England got up and started punching the air in front of him.

"You Psycho! Get out of my life!" The imaginary friends all watched in horror as England punched at nothing. Oliver just laughed sinisterly.

"You silly fool. You can't punch me because I'm you!" England stopped punching and let his arms drop to his sides.

"Good day, Arthur!" The voice laughed again and then it faded away. England breathed heavily as tears began streaming down his face again. He sunk to the floor. Oliver has been harassing him for a while now. He appeared briefly during the War of 1812, when Oliver forced Arthur to burn America's capital. England rubbed his eyes.

"Damn you Oliver."


	5. Chapter 4: The Voices Exposed

**Chapter 4: The Voices Exposed**

The word "power" really stung Italy since the confrontation with Germany. It rang in his head daily except it wasn't Germany's voice saying it. It was his own. One day, after a hard day of training, Italy went to his bedroom to head to bed. He looked at himself in the mirror. He gasped for what he saw was not his reflection.

"Hey there Veneziano." The figure in the mirror looked like Italy but his uniform was a dark brown. It was splattered with blood. He had a black hat with violet feathers. His eyes were open and were dark pink instead of the usual honey color. He had a cold facial expression with no smile.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Luciano but you can call me Veneziano." Italy looked surprised.

"But that's my name."

"Exactly." Luciano cracked a small grin. Italy backed away from the reflection, extremely scared of the menacing figure in the mirror.

"Ve! What do you want from me?" The reflection began to emerge from the mirror.

"To give you some advice." Luciano grasped Italy's shoulders.

"Veneziano, haven't you always wanted power?" Italy gulped, too scared to answer.

"Well, I'm here to help you." He pushed Italy away. He slammed against his bed and struggled to stand back up.

"I will see you tomorrow." The reflection merged back into the mirror and faded away. Italy wrapped his arms around himself, terrified. He whimpered to himself, trying to contemplate what just happened. He climbed up to his bed and covered his face with his pillow. The next day was the big meeting.

* * *

America called a conference between the Axis and the Allies in the world conference hall to discuss the war. Everyone was seated in their usual spots but instead of the usual arguing and bantering that started the meeting, it was silent. Germany and England were giving each other a cold stare. Italy was twiddling his thumbs but was alert. His eyes were open and scanned the room.

"Alright. I think we all know why we're here today. To discuss what all this war nonsense is about. Care to explain you two." America glared at England and Germany. Germany looked down, not sure what to say. England stared down at Germany waiting for an answer.

"England was going to declare war on Germany." Italy stood up, pointing at England. Everyone was surprised Italy got up and actually said something unrelated to food. England looked at him with shock.

"What! I heard Germany was going to declare war on me!"

"Perhaps 'Scotland' misinformed you, England," France said. England sighed and knew he would have to say who actually told him about who told him.

"Alright. I lied. It wasn't Scotland who told me this. It was one of my imaginary friends." America pounded the table angrily.

"The hell England! You're taking advice from some stupid guy who doesn't even exist!" Germany stood up and forced his hand in America's face, shutting him up.

"Was it a voice?"

"Yes. I can't actually see him." England was surprised Germany knew about this voice.

"So it's not just me who can hear it."

"You hear a voice too?"

"He's been haunting my dreams for quite some time now." Italy looked at Germany, extremely concerned.

"Did he sound like you?" Germany looked at Italy.

"Yes, but he says the most sick, sadistic things."

"For my voice as well. His name is Oliver." England rubbed his head.

"I saw my voice." The whole room turned to look at Italy.

"Saw it?" America asked.

"He looked just like me! But his uniform was a different color and stained with blood. He had these scary pink eyes." Italy shivered thinking about the terrifying moment.

"And what did he say to you?" Germany asked.

"That he was Veneziano." Germany and England had a look of pure fear on their face.

"Oliver told me that we are the same person."

"So did the voice in my dreams."

The other countries then started becoming worried. All of the countries had experienced moments like this. America's voice came to him during the Revolutionary War and when he bombed Japan in World War II. France's voice came to him during the French and Indian Wars and during his various Napoleonic invasions. China's voice came to him during the Chinese Civil War. Russia's voice appeared to him often especially during the Cold War. And Japan's voice appeared to him during the Sino-Wars against China.

"I think we all know about these voices." America finally spoke. Everyone nodded their heads in agreement.

"Who are they?" Italy spoke softly.

"Your worst nightmare."


	6. Chapter 5: Meeting the Villains

**Chapter 5: Meeting the Villains**

The voice came from behind America. The figure looked exactly like America but had dark red hair and blood red eyes. He wore a dark blood-stained jacket and torn jeans. He had shades instead of glasses. In his hand was an old bat filled with pointy, crooked nails. The nails were covered in blood. He had a toothy smirk on his face. He pushed America against the table, ready to slam America with his large, deadly bat.

"Hold on there Alfie! Don't be so rude to our friends." The voice came from behind England.

"Oliver?" England turned around to see a replica of him but instead he had light, unnatural blue eyes. He wore a soft pink vest and a blue bow-tie. His hair was much lighter than England's, nearly white. It had a slight pink hue to it. He had a terribly large smile on his face, one that matched his creepy personality.

"Hello my dear Arthur! Excuse my Alfie there. He can be a bit, aggressive." Alfie looked at Oliver impatiently and let go of America. A hand reached out and grabbed Italy's shoulder. Luciano came forth smirking at the bewildered countries' faces.

"Guten Tag Ludwig." Germany's evil counterpart had glazed, purple eyes. A deep bloody scar ran down the side of his cheek. He had a brown jacket draped over his shoulders, exposing multiple scars on his arms. He had a black cap covering his blonde hair. He had a sinister grin on his face. "I'm Lutz."

Soon the other evil countries began to emerge from the shadows. France's counterpart had light purple eyes and a scruffy five o' clock shadow. He wore a black suit with a faded purple dress shirt. He had a blank face. Not smiling or frowning. He was smoking from a cigar.

Russia's counterpart had much darker hair. His eyes were dark red and looked depressed. He wore a long black coat with red accents. His black scarf was torn, ripped, and stained. His face was the opposite of innocent. He had a rage-filled grimace on his face.

China's counterpart wore a cap that hid most of his face but a red glow from his eyes were still visible. He wore his mangled hair down. He wore a dark red tunic with the collars popped up. His facial expression was hard to read.

Japan's counterpart wore a dark military uniform with rusted gold medals embellishing it. He looked very regal, like Japan but had a very curled, crooked posture. His eyes were bright red. He even had a slight smile on his face, something Japan would never do.

"What do you want from us!" America yelled as he backed away from Alfie slowly.

"All we want is to make our country happy!" Luciano stroked Italy's shoulder while he shivered in fear.

"How so?" France turned towards his counterpart, Francois.

"It's different for each of you." Francois voice was stiff and emotionless. "But the main gist is the same."

"All of you want some form of power." Lutz said eyeing Germany then Italy. Italy bit his lip, remembering that stinging word.

"Don't you just love that word!" Oliver pranced to Italy, sticking his tongue out at him. Italy looked away from the colorful Oliver, trying to ignore him.

"Leave him alone Oliver!" England got up and grasped Oliver's arm. He turned his head, his smile disappeared into a menacing clenched-teeth scowl. He pulled a serrated kitchen knife from the back of his belt, holding it right in front of England's neck.

"Apologize for touching me or I'll decapitate you." Everyone in the room froze. France and America looked worriedly at England. England breathed heavily over the sharp knife only centimeters away from his neck.

"I'm sorry," England whimpered. Oliver pulled back his knife and his smile returned to him.

"Good boy, Arthur. I should've warned you, I don't like violent people."

"Says the one who pulled a knife on me." Oliver giggled and hugged England tightly. England was extremely confused and annoyed by his bipolar counterpart. He didn't make any sense to England.

"Get to the point." Russia's counterpart, Ion, had an impatient frown.

"I believe it's time for us 2p countries to take over you all now." Luciano smiled squeezing Italy's shoulder tightly, piercing his skin. Italy whimpered.

"2p?" China asked. Japan and America looked at each other, they knew what it meant.

"Second-player," They said together.

"That's what we like to call ourselves! Pretty badass." Artie began swinging his bat around, nearly hitting America.

"But now I believe it is time for us to become player 1." Japan's counterpart, Kyo, smiled deviously as Oliver began to laugh maniacally.

"But what if we can defeat you?" Russia asked smiling. This made Ion extremely mad.

"I'll tear you apart!" Ion lunged towards Russia but China's quiet counterpart, Yang, stopped him.

"Not now. We must fight in an open space." His voice was very soft.

"Tomorrow, noon, at Italy's northern border. I expect to see you all there." Luciano finally let go of Italy. The 2p countries slowly faded back into the shadows and left the countries to think in silence.

"Oh god." England stared down at the table, his hands covering his face. "What the hell are we going to do?"

"Let's just not go! What's the worst they can do, aru?" China said enthusiastically.

"No, they'll sneak attack us and kill us." Germany knew the 2p better than most since the voice had been with him the longest. "We all have to be there."

"What should we take?" America didn't want to go unarmed, especially since his 2p held a terrifying weapon.

"Our best weapons." Russia smiled, thinking of his large arsenal of deadly weapons at his place.

"Agreed." England was thinking of what to use against that annoying Oliver. Italy sat in his seat quietly. His shoulder hurt from Luciano's harsh grip. He was nervous having everyone fighting in his land. But perhaps it would be good luck! Italy was always considered one of the luckiest of the countries, despite being the least powerful.

"These 2p guys seem tough. But we're going to win, right guys!" America raised his fist high in the air. The other countries yelled in excitement with their fists in the air, except for Italy. He had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy.


	7. Chapter 6: World War III

**Chapter 6: World War III**

Each country assembled in the fields that occupied Italy's land. All of them were prepared for an all-out war. America was equipped with a sniper rifle. England brought along various swords. France brought an old musket. China carried a pistol with him. Japan took his traditional katana. Germany held two handguns which he could shoot at the same time. Russia took a powerful submachine gun. Even Italy brought a small shotgun.

A clock-tower in the distance rang 12 times, it was exactly noon. The countries scanned the field for their enemy.

"Did they skip out on us?" America scratched his head.

"No silly, we're right here!" The countries turned around and saw Oliver and the other 2p countries rising from their own shadows. "We would never miss out on a battle like this! Oooh, so exciting!" The 2p countries lined up with their counterpart. The wind calmed and everything was silent.

America and Alfie began to circle each other slowly, watching each others moves carefully.

"Nice toy, Alfred," Alfie growled slowly bringing his bat forward.

"I was about to say the same about your little bat," America smirked. America raised his rifle and began shooting at Alfie. The bullets passed through him like he was air. America gasped as Alfie charged towards him. He was able to duck and Alfie tumbled down beside him but quickly raised his bat. He struck America across the back. The nails dug deep into America's skin and he wailed in pain, falling into the ground with a pool of blood.

"America!" England screamed as he ran towards his dying brother. But Oliver blocked him before he could reach America. "Get away you bloody bastard!"

"Well that wasn't very nice Arthur. I think it's time you learned a lesson." In a blink of an eye, Oliver's serrated knife had slashed through England's chest. England stared at America for one last time before falling to the ground. Oliver laughed deviously over England's bleeding body.

France started shooting at Oliver but he only had time for one shot before a dagger was through his stomach. Francois pulled out the bloody dagger as France fell to the ground beside England. Oliver was unaffected.

China started rapidly shooting at Yang but had no effect. Yang held a long staff with a sharp blade at the tip. He jumped in front of China and stabbed him through the chest. China tried to pull out the blade but it only made him weaker. He fell to his knees.

Ion held a broken, rusted pickaxe and charged straight to Russia. Russia didn't even have time to react before he was stabbed and hacked at several times by his brutal counterpart.

Kyo retracted a bloody katana and sprinted towards Japan. Their two blades clashed with each other but Kyo was just too strong. He was able to fling Japan's sword into the air. Then slicing Japan nearly in two with a sadistic smile on his face.

Germany started shooting Lutz but knew it would do no good. Lutz pulled out a whip, striking Germany's gun right out of his hand. The sharp whip then began striking Germany's neck and shoulders, making deep cuts. Germany tried to slap the whip away. Lutz's aim was precise. He sliced right through an artery in the neck. Germany fell to the ground, coughing blood.

Italy looked around and saw that all his friends were either dying or already dead. His fields were covered in blood. The 2p countries were smiling at the corpses below them. Italy whimpered as tears strolled down his face. Luciano held sharp throwing knives in between his fingers and pointed them at Italy.

"Goodbye Veneziano." He threw the knives at Italy. One struck the base of Italy's neck, the other near his heart, the last at his stomach. Blood streamed down Italy's mouth. His whole body was numb. But he refused to give up and die. He clenched his teeth and slowly lifted his legs. He stumbled towards Luciano. Luciano looked pleased with him.

"I refuse to die." Italy spat up more blood and kept limping toward Luciano.

"Then become one with me." Luciano charged towards Italy as he braced for impact. Everything went black.

The countries awoke on the field. There was no blood beside them. Italy stood up quickly and scanned over his body. He was completely fine, no scars, no pain.

"I'm not the only one who saw that, right?" America reached to his back and felt no blood. The 2p countries were no where in sight.

"Was that all a dream?" Japan saw that his Katana was back in his hand.

"It sure didn't feel like a dream." England touched his chest, expecting to find a large gash. He then looked over America and saw that his bloody wound was also gone. The other countries got up and examined themselves. None of them were injured, they were all alive.

Italy thought about what Luciano said before he disappeared. 'Become one with me.' He didn't feel any different?

Germany looked around the field and saw that his ammo was still full in both guns. "It was all in our heads. My ammo is still full." France saw that his ammo was still full as well and so was China's.

"I am very confused," Russia said.

"Dude, you're not the only one." America rubbed his head in frustration.


	8. Chapter 7: Noticing Changes

**Chapter 7: Noticing Changes**

Days went by and the 2p countries were no where in sight. The Axis still held their daily training sessions but instead were training for another war with the 2p's. Germany tried not being so tough on Japan and Italy since Lutz hasn't appeared his dreams since the last battle. Yet, Germany couldn't help but push the two. He still wanted them to be well prepared.

"C'mon you two! If you don't speed up, I'll make you run three more laps!" Germany yelled as he ran far in front of Japan and Italy. The two panted as they started speeding up to catch up with Germany. Italy hasn't complained at all since the training began, he's been trying fairly hard as well. Japan was also alot more resilient, able to last a lot longer without food or water then before. The three finally finished their ten laps around the path.

After training was over, Italy walked back home with Germany. When Italy passed by an artillery store, he couldn't help but stare at the shiny blades and heavy-duty guns. Germany paused, confused at Italy's sudden fascination.

"Italy? Are you alright?"

"Ve! I'm fine!" Italy shook himself out of his trance and continued walking. But then he stopped.

"Um, Germany. Could we go inside?"

"Ok, if you want to." The two entered the weapons store. Italy browsed over the various daggers and knives. He found three that resembled the ones Luciano used on him. He lifted them up carefully, observing the sharp edges. Germany looked through the miscellaneous weapons and found a sharp whip like the one Lutz used.

"Italy, come here." Italy walked over to Germany with the knives in his hand. "This looks like the whip Lutz was using."

"Yeah, it does." Italy pulled out the knives to show to Germany. "And these look like Luciano's knives."

"These are high quality weapons," Germany said as he lifted up the whip. Italy nodded as he shuffled the knives in his hands. He didn't know why, but he wanted to take the knives with him. He didn't think he would ever use them, but they were just really shiny and hypnotizing. Germany felt the same way about the whip. Italy walked up to the counter with Germany behind him. They both looked at each other surprised, and a little scared.

As they were leaving the store, Germany asked, "What will you do with those, Italy?" Italy continued staring at the knives, twiddling them between his fingers. Germany was extremely concerned for Italy since he could barely use a grenade. He could hurt himself with those knives.

"I don't know yet." Italy's voice was low and serious. His eyes were slightly open instead of being closed. He was acting extremely different. They split paths as Italy headed back to his home and Germany to his.

* * *

Canada decided to visit his brother America since the weather was alot warmer at his place. America's house wasn't lit from the outside for some reason. But a light that looked to be the TV flickered by the window. He was definitely home. Canada knocked on the door. America answered the door. He had tired, upset eyes. He didn't look himself.

"What do you want?" His voice was sharp and crude. Canada was shocked and wasn't sure how to respond.

"Ummm, I, well...The weather is really chilly at my place. I wanted to visit you for the night," Canada said in his gentle, quiet voice. America sighed and signaled him to come in. Canada started to regret his decision to visit America. He didn't seem to be in a good mood.

Canada heard all about the 2p situation from America the day after the battle. Canada has yet to hear his 2p, but he knew he'd come eventually.

America was watching an extremely violent movie. People were being eaten alive and decapitated. Normally, America would scream and freak out over a horror film like this, but he seemed quite interested. Canada was traumatized.

"Hey, ummm, could we change the channel?"

"No." America didn't even bother looking at his brother. He kept his eyes fixed on the film. Canada couldn't bare watching another second of the disturbing movie.

"Hey, I think I'm going to go. I can see you're busy." Canada got up from the sofa. America looked at him with the most angry expression.

"What the hell! You think I'm some kind of asshole, don't you! I swear to god I'm gonna..." Canada looked at America in pure fear. He looked as if he was going to murder him. Canada's expression caused America to snap out of his violent mood.

"Oh geez, Canada, dude. I'm sorry, I don't know what got over me." Canada still looked at America with a terrified expression. He sprinted out of the door. America felt horrible.

"What's wrong with me."


	9. Chapter 8: Research

**Chapter 8: Research**

By now, almost all the countries have received news of the 2p countries. Everyone was extremely concerned that their 2p will rise up like they did for the Axis and the Allies.

Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania held a meeting with Russia. Estonia wanted to take Russia's description of the 2p's to learn a little more about them. Estonia was a great researcher and was on his laptop 24/7. The three little countries separated from Russia and each other after the dissolution of the Soviet Union but the three still kept in touch. This was the first time they met with Russia.

"It's good to see you all." Russia pushed down Latvia like he used to. Latvia has grown a little taller since the dissolution since Russia wasn't there to push down his head. "You've grown." Latvia smiled nervously at his old master.

"Glad to see you're ok after the 2p incident," Lithuania said.

"Da! My 2p was indeed quite powerful!" The three shuttered at the thought of someone stronger than Russia.

"What did he look like?" Estonia asked.

"He looked like me but his hair was brown. He had red eyes too. He wore a coat like mine but it was black. His scarf was shredded up." Russia sighed, thinking about how his counterpart hacked him to death.

"Oh my! He sounds scary." Latvia and Lithuania looked at each other worriedly. Estonia typed on his computer for awhile as the other countries waited. Russia was getting impatient. He clenched his fist. He was usually a very patient man but for some reason he didn't want to wait.

"Go faster would you!" He yelled at Estonia. He quickly snapped out of it, seeing the three shocked. "Eh, sorry. Not feeling myself today." Estonia typed on his computer quickly as the other two began urging him to go faster. Russia watched them happily. It reminded him of when they were the Soviet Union. But Russia couldn't get the weird urge to attack them out of his head. His happiness seemed to be diminishing.

"Apparently the 2p are from an alternate reality from ours." Estonia read from a blog. "This person says that they enter our world usually before wars begin." He paused to scroll down. "Their main goal is to take over our reality." Russia banged his hand on his hand rest, breaking it. He growled like an angry dog. The three countries backed away worriedly. Russia got up from his chair and started walking towards the door.

"You three better hide. The world's about to be turned upside down." Russia slammed the door behind him. He knew exactly how the 2p's were going to take over their world. Through taking over their counterpart. That was what was happening to him.


	10. Chapter 9: Learning to Laugh

**Chapter 9: Learning to Laugh**

England decided to make some scones and tea to calm him down. He's had a massive headache for a few days now. He decided to change up his scone recipe, adding some more sugar. He added lots of sugar cubes to his tea as well. He knew sugar would probably ease his headache and give him some energy. He ate and couldn't help but smile at himself from how good it was.

"This is the sweetest thing I've ever baked! It's divine!" England was surprised about how cheery he sounded. His voice was starting to resemble Oliver's. "Goddamn." He slammed his plate on the table. He threw the rest of his scones and tea away, despite how good they were.

His imaginary friends came to visit him but they were acting a bit off. They watched over England with caution, as if they knew what was happening to him.

"Hey guys, what's the matter? You look as if you've seen a monster." None of them replied. England started to giggle a little but he immediately shut his mouth with his hands. "What the hell's gotten into me!" His friends starting backing away from him slowly. "You have to help me. Don't leave me alone." They didn't listen. They just kept backing away, looking at him with shame and guilt. England had the biggest urge to laugh but he didn't want to. He was miserable, he had no reason to laugh.

He stumbled to the bathroom to take some pain killers he kept in his cabinet. His reflection showed on the cabinet's mirror. He had dark bags under his eyes. He looked as if he hasn't gotten sleep in days. He opened the cabinet and took two tablets of Tylenol. When he closed the cabinet he saw his reflection again. His eyes have become a sky blue and his hair was pinkish-white. He gasped and fell to the ground. He was becoming Oliver!

He ran to his phone, still biting his lips to resist the urge to laugh. He dialed America's number and prayed he would answer. A grouchy voice answered the phone.

"What."

"America... please. Help...me." England's voice trembled. America immediately felt concern for his brother, trying to push the violent side taking over him away.

"England, stay there. I'll be right there."

By the time America arrived at England's place, England was on the floor shaking terribly. He looked like he was having a seizure. America rushed to his brother.

"England! England, wake up!" He shook England until he stopped shaking. England was hiding his face with his hands. "What's wrong, England. Tell me what's wrong and I'll help you." America tried to soothe his terrified brother. He could hear a whimper from under England's hands.

"I'm being possessed," he whispered.

"By what, who?"

"Oliver." England released his hand to show off his blue, hypnotizing eyes. His mouth was shaking. Oliver was trying to make him smile. America gasped and backed away from him. "He's trying to make me laugh but I don't want to, America." England began crying as his mouth started to form a toothy smile.

"You're stronger than him Arthur!" It's been a long time since America called England by his human name. This broke England's concentration. He started laughing sinisterly. England was starting to lose control over his body. He got up and looked at America's face.

"What's the matter, America?" He laughed even harder as he approached America slowly. America looked at his insane brother with sadness and fear. He wasn't sure if his England was still there but he couldn't bare to look at this England anymore. America grasped his shoulders, shaking him violently.

"England, wake up! Stop acting like this, please." The laughing finally stopped and England's green eyes returned. He shook free of America's grip.

"I'm alright, I'm fine." America couldn't help but hug him tightly, tears streaming down his face. They stained England's coat. England had no idea what just happened in the past couple seconds but it must've been terrible. He's never seen America so traumatized. He held him tightly. "I'm sorry, America. I'm sorry." But America couldn't say anything. He just kept crying on England's shoulder.


	11. Chapter 10: Solitude

**Chapter 10: Solitude**

Since the day of the battle, France has been sitting at his place by himself. He did not allow any visitors. Anyone who came were asked to leave. He was in no mood to socialize. Like the other countries, he wasn't feeling himself.

"Oh, what's wrong with me! I feel like a depressed old man." France looked in the mirror where a five o' clock shadow was beginning to grow. He felt stressed and upset for no reason. Even wine didn't make him feel better. Wine usually always made him feel better. He even tried reading romance novels but they only made him feel worse.

He looked through the drawers of his kitchen and found an old cigar he got as a souvenir from visiting Cuba. He grabbed a lighter and placed the cigar in his mouth. He lit the cigar and felt the inside of his throat smolder. He never smoked anything before. It felt nice. He felt it took some of the pain away. He breathed out smelly, black smoke. But it was his only cigar.

"I need more of these." He grabbed a bland black coat from his closet and left the door. He walked to the nearest convenience store, avoiding eye contact with anyone on the street. He knew the store wouldn't have high-quality cigars, but simple cigarettes would due.

He bought a few boxes, brought them home, and immediately started smoking them again. His house began smelling like a factory from all the smoke but France didn't seem to mind. Francois was taking control over France. The more he smoked, the more purple his eyes became.

* * *

China also secluded himself from others after the battle but instead of sulking in depression, he was thinking. He plotted and schemed. He wrote and drew various war plans against many different countries. He planned an invasion on Japan that was perhaps the most strategic plan China has ever created. He spoke to no one about his ideas. He didn't brag like he used to. He just kept all his extremely successful plans to himself.

"Japan will not be expecting an attack from me if I attack at the East end of Honshu," China spoke to himself. "It should be an eighty percent aerial attack. They should be first to attack and hit the center of Tokyo. Then my ground soldiers could take the resources of the surroundings since Japan will be too busy tending to the millions of injured and dead at Tokyo."

Deep down, China felt like a demon for creating such a deadly, heartless plan against his brother but Yang had more control over China's body then he did. He hid his face with a military cap he kept from long ago. The only thing visible were his glowing ruby eyes.


	12. Chapter 11: A 2p Meeting

**Chapter 11: A 2p Meeting**

When America wasn't being take over by Alfie, he attempted to hold a meeting with his fellow Allies and the Axis. Many of the countries never answered or return the call and he didn't expect anyone to show. After what happened to England, he knew everyone else were most likely being possessed by their 2p's.

When he arrived at the conference hall, he was surprised to find Japan already sitting in his seat writing something.

"Hey Japan." America fell in his seat, exhausted from having only slept for a few hours.

"Hello." Japan continued writing on his paper.

"I'm glad to see that you're...yourself. Everyone's been acting strange lately. Like their 2p's."

"Well, I have also been feeling strange recently. That is why I'm drawing calligraphy. It helps me concentrate." Japan lifted his paper, showing America a page full of the same word in elegant Japanese calligraphy.

"Oh, what does that word mean?" Japan looked down at his paper, making a bit of an embarrassed frown.

"Blood."

"Oh." America stared down at his clenched hands on the table. He was holding in the urge to yell something rude at Japan. He's been acting like a total jerk recently and has noticed it. He also noticed he's been wearing darker clothes. The suit he was wearing was all black and so was Japan.

Russia entered the door with anger written all over his face. He pulled out his seat and quickly sat down. America kept his mouth shut, remembering Ion's short temper. Russia's scarf was torn up just like Ions.

China entered so quietly, America didn't notice. He was still wearing the military cap low on his head. He sat in his seat in silence but stared at Japan closely.

France came in smoking a cigarette. His eyes looked cold, tired, and hollow. He fell in his chair and puffed out more smoke. Again, America felt the urge to call him a rude name but America was more focused on the fact countries were actually showing up. Was it because they're 1p self was still there? Or were these 2p's just here to sabotage it.

Italy and Germany walked in, acting surprisingly normal. Italy sat in his seat and looked over all the other countries. Germany sulked in his seat, wanting to get it over with. They greeted Japan who began writing 'blood' on the backside of his paper.

England was the last one to enter. He was luckily his normal self with the biggest frown on his face. He's been taking Tylenol everyday to keep his headaches in check. He, like everyone else, had barely any sleep. He sat by France who was smoking another cigarette. England glared at him.

"You smoke now?"

"Yeah." France's voice was hoarse from smoking so much. England chuckled but then quickly covered his mouth. America got up from his chair to start the meeting.

"Alright, dudes. It's pretty obvious that the 2p's aren't gone and aren't leaving anytime soon. Those of you who aren't being possessed right now, got any ideas?" Russia scratched at the table, slowly shaving off the varnish over it. China kept his head down. France continued smoking, staring at the ceiling. England rubbed his head for his headache was returning. Japan, Germany, and Italy talked among themselves but said nothing to America. America couldn't take it anymore.

"God! You all are useless!" He slammed the table, making everyone look at him. He growled and cursed under his breathe as his eyes started turning red.

"America, calm down. We're all just really exhausted. We're trying our best to overcome our 2p," England reassured him. France took the cigarette out of his mouth, his old self returning to him.

"Yes, it's just very difficult." France was able to speak.

"They're trying to take over our reality." Russia finally spoke. He wiped away the shavings from scratching the table. "That's their goal."

China lifted his cap. "They'll make the whole world a war-zone." It seemed each countries was reverting back to their old self. It was like the 2p's would come and go. Now, the countries needed to figure out the on and off switch.

"Any ideas on how to make them leave?" England asked. The room was silent. No one had the slightest ideas. The axis were still talking between themselves.

"What's up with you guys?" America asked angrily, his hair darkening into a color like Alfie's. Italy looked up revealing his dark pink eyes.

"Just making our own plans." England couldn't help but giggle and walked over to the trio.

"Oooh, plans for what?"

"Plans for war." The mention of war riled up the rest of the group. England laughed even more. China lowered his cap and recited his war plans in his head. France pulled out another cigarette and started complaining. Russia was at the edge of his seat, threatening to tear the three into pieces. America couldn't help but grin, thinking about brutally beating the three. Japan stopped writing and began scanning all the countries, thinking of each country's weak spot.

"Everybody listen up!" Germany slammed the table with his fists. "We're here to solve the problems with the 2p, not to become them. Now all of you sit down and snap out of it!" Germany's yelling quieted everyone in the room. It brought back memories of the previous world meetings. Italy's eyes returned to their honey color.

"Ve, what just happened?"

"You were making plans for war."

"What!" Italy looked at Germany and then to the other countries.

"It's alright. It seems everyone's back to normal, for now." England sighed. "I think it'd be best we schedule a meeting when we actually have ideas. It's far too dangerous to meet all together like this. We'll kill each other for sure."


	13. Chapter 12: Italy's Plan

**Chapter 12: Italy's Plan**

Italy sat in his room in silence, switching between Luciano and himself. He dragged his knife against his bed frame, trying to distract himself. But at the same time, he couldn't help but think to himself the positives of his new personality.

"I'll definitely be more powerful," He whispered to himself quietly. "Yes, much more powerful." He buried the knife deeper into his bed frame. "We could defeat the Allies. I could defeat the Allies." He grinned menacingly. "I could defeat them myself, and take over the Axis."

Flashbacks of Germany and Japan came flowing through his head. The time when Germany and Italy made the Pact of Steel with their pinkies. The time Japan and Italy went for a 'fun' drive. The time they all got stranded on an island. "Ve, I could never do that to them. They're my best friends!" Italy sulked in his little corner. He continued to cut into his bed.

The door opened and Romano peaked his head into the room. "Veneziano?" He saw the little Italy in the dark facing the other way. "Are you ok?" Romano slowly walked into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"I heard what happened to you and your buddies. These 2p guys sound like complete assholes." Romano kept his voice low. He knew that Italy's been cooped up in his room for a while and was in a bad mood. Italy kept silent.

"Veneziano." Romano stepped closer and closer. Then like a cat, Italy pounced on his brother bringing his knife dangerously close to his brother's neck. His dark pink eyes glowed as he grasped Romano's hair, pulling his head up to expose more of his neck.

"What are you doing?" Romano breathed. Italy smiled devilishly at his brother.

"Romano, I believe it's time for me to gain power." Romano gulped as the cold knife touched his neck. But Italy didn't want to kill him just yet.

"Do me a favor and reach for your cellphone." Romano carefully reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

"Good Romano. Now call brother Spain, would you?"

"What do you want me to say," Romano whispered.

"Tell him exactly what's going on." Italy leaned closer to his brother's ear. "That you're being held hostage, by me!" Romano breathed heavily, slowly dialing Spain's number. He lifted his phone to his ear.

"Put it on speaker!" Italy yelled, making an incision on Romano's neck.

"Ack! I'm sorry." Romano held his phone slightly closer to Italy, putting it on speaker. Spain answered quickly.

"Hey, Romano!"

"Spain, help me. I'm being held hostage." Romano spoke softly as blood streamed down his neck from the cut.

"Where are you!"

"My brother's house. He's keeping me hostage."

"What!" Italy released Romano's hair and grabbed the phone from his brother.

"And you better get here quick. Romano's just begging for decapitation." His voice showed no remorse. It was like he had no soul.

"Italy I swear to god! If you lay a hand on him..."

"You're a little too late, Spain. Romano's neck's already bleeding a river. And if you don't hurry up, it'll bleed an ocean." Spain hung up and Italy placed Romano's cellphone by his side.

"Veneziano. Please, let me go." Romano started to cry from the stinging pain in his neck and from fear.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. You're my first ticket to power." Italy grabbed his other two knives from under the bed. This gave Romano a chance to get up but Italy's speed was far greater than his. He spun Romano around and pushed him against the wall. He stuck the two knives on Romano's arms, snagging his clothes and some of Romano's skin. He wailed in pain. Italy kept the other knife in his hand.

"Now you can't escape." Italy snickered like a maniac and watched with joy as his brother struggled to get free.

* * *

Spain quickly arrived at Italy's house armed with only a kitchen knife he was using to cut his tomatoes at home. He pulled the handle. The front door was unlocked. He sneaked in quietly and looked around the dark living room. No one in sight. He slowly walked towards Italy's bedroom. The door was open. He walked in and the first thing he saw was Romano pinned to the wall. He was pale and barely breathing.

"Romano!" Spain ran to him and pulled out the knives, not noticing Italy standing right beside the door. "It'll be alright Romano." He held up the almost unconscious Romano by the shoulders.

"Turn...around," Romano was able to say but it was too late. Italy stabbed Spain in the back. He screamed but refused to let go of his beloved friend. Spain looked over his shoulder. Italy stared at him with glazed eyes.

"Italy, what do you want from us!"

"Control and power." Italy walked closer to the two. "The more countries under your control, the more power you have," he hissed. "You two are only the beginning." Romano was now unconscious from loss of blood and Spain's vision was blurring.

"Yes, sleep. No need to struggle anymore." Italy's voice was almost hypnotizing. Spain lowered Romano to the ground, falling down himself. "Sleep," Italy repeated. Spain wrapped his arms around Romano a final time and closed his eyes.


	14. Chapter 13: England's Tea

**Chapter 13: England's Tea**

"What do you want, England?" America answered the phone as he was watching another gory film.

"Hello there America. I actually made some tea and scones, would you like to come over?" England sounded a bit more giddy than usual but America was too focused on his film to notice.

"I'm watching something," America replied.

"Oh, well, my place has a giant flatscreen if you want to watch it from here!" America immediately turned off his television.

"It better be HD." America hung up and pulled on his new black leather jacket. He looked at himself in the mirror, seeing that his eyes weren't their usual bright blue. They were slowly morphing into Alfie's blood red eyes. His hair didn't have a nice sheen to it anymore either. It was greasy and dark. He grunted, trying to ignore the fact he looks much more like Alfie than Alfred. He walked out the door and headed to England's house.

England opened the door before America even had a chance to knock. "Ah, great! You're here!" England had a slight smile on his face. His eyes were a mix of green and blue, his pupils were constricted. He was wearing a peach dress shirt and a plaid green apron. He was in between a state of being Oliver and a state of being Arthur.

"Shut up and show me to your TV." America shoved England out of the way and barged into England's home. Everything was bright and clean, unlike it usually was. America walked to the living room and found a small flatscreen not even close to what he was expecting.

"You're shitting me right?" America looked at England with a menacing expression.

"Oh well, I find that TV to be quite large in my eyes! Go ahead. Turn it on!" America found the remote on the sofa beside him. He slouched on the cushions and turned the TV on. It was on the same channel America was on. His violent movie was still playing.

"Heh, you watch this too?"

"Yes! It's quite entertaining." England walked over to a tray of steaming tea and brought it over to the sofa, offering America some. America took one without a thank you and started sipping. The taste was unusual but surprisingly good. England never made good tea.

"What kind of tea is this?"

"Earl gray with some extra yumminess!" England smiled even bigger.

"Yumminess?"

"Oh, just some sugar...and blood." America stuck out his tongue in disgust.

"Sick! What the hell's wrong with you!"

"I was watching something about cannibals earlier and I thought that I would give it a try!"

"Where'd you get the blood from?" England bit his lip in embarrassment and looked down at his feet.

"I...ummm..." He pulled up his sleeves exposing multiple rainbow band-aids on his wrists. America became extremely concerned, bringing some of his old personality back.

"Oh gosh! Arthur are you crazy?" He carefully grasped England's arm, examining how many band-aids he had on.

England blushed and starting returning to his old self. "Why do you keep calling me that?" He pulled his arm away. He looked at it himself, suddenly realizing what he's done to himself. "Bloody hell." America set his tea down on the coffee table in front of him and turned off the TV.

"We're slowly losing our 1p selves," America spoke softly.

"Yes. It's getting harder to hold back Oliver."

"What'll happen if we all turn into 2p's, Arthur?" America sounded scared and innocent, as if he were a child. England sighed, patting his brother's hair.

"It won't happen, Alfred. Don't worry."

"How do you know?"

"Because we're alot stronger than those 2p wankers! I mean, they're messing with the great and mighty England and...his delinquent little brother." America smiled, feeling himself overcoming Alfie's urges. But he knew it would only be temporary. England's eyes were already beginning to constrict again.

* * *

Spain awoke leaning against Italy's bed. Romano's neck and arms were wrapped in bandages and so was Spain's back. He was still lightheaded. Italy was no where in sight. Romano was fast asleep, his arms wrapped around Spain's waist. Spain sighed in relief that they weren't dead. He shook Romano softly.

"Romano, wake up," he whispered. Romano opened his eyes and realized he was hugging Spain. He backed off quickly, extremely embarrassed but Spain didn't seem to care.

"What the hell happened? Did you bandage me?"

"No, I just woke up awhile ago."

"Where's Veneziano?"

"I don't know but we better get out of here quickly." Spain helped Romano up. They walked toward the door right as Italy passed by.

"Ve! You two are awake!" Romano charged, wrapping his hands tightly around his brother's neck, attempting to choke him.

"You psycho! What were you trying to kill us for, huh?" Italy coughed, loosing air from Romano's tight grip. He looked at his brother with fright.

"Romano! Let him go." Spain tugged at his brother's arm.

"No, not after what he tried to do to me!" Spain was finally able to pull Romano back from Italy. Italy fell to his knees in tears. He was like his usual crybaby self.

"Italy, you have to listen to brother Spain ok? I won't let Romano hurt you." Italy looked up at Spain with watery puppy eyes.

"Ok."

"Good. Could you tell me what happened to us?" Spain smiled at Italy. Italy was able to stop crying so he could speak to them.

"I don't know. All of a sudden I was in my room and I saw you two on the floor, bleeding. I almost fainted, I thought I lost you two. But you guys still had a pulse so I wrapped your wounds with some bandages. I couldn't find the culprit anywhere." Romano looked at his brother with anger.

"You're lying!"

"What? No I'm not."

"You nearly killed Spain and I with those stupid knives of yours!" Italy looked at his brother, confused.

"Knives?" Suddenly, Italy was hit with a flashback of when he bought the knives with Germany at the weapons store. "Luciano."

"Who?" Italy turned to look at his brother.

"Quickly, what color are my eyes?"

"The hell?"

"Please, just answer!"

"Hazel...Gold...Brown?" Italy sighed with relief. "What does eye color have to do with this?"

"It's a long story."


	15. Chapter 14: The Other Nations

**Chapter 14: The Other Nations**

Italy brewed some coffee for his brother and Spain. They watched Italy's movements carefully, making sure he wasn't going to poison their drink or put some kind of blade in them. But he did nothing of the sort. He handed Spain and Romano warm coffee and sat down with them at the dining table.

"So you're telling us that wasn't you?" Romano said as he sipped his coffee.

"Yes! Well, I mean...No, it was me." Italy stuttered, not sure how to explain his situation. "My 2p is inside of me. We've become the same person."

"2p, you say?"

"Yes. We fought them recently and we failed...miserably."

"So they've finally decided to show their faces again, eh?"

"What! You know of them?"

"Yes. I saw mine many times during the Spanish Civil War." Spain looked down and closed his eyes, remembering the horrible things his 2p caused him. Nearly 500,00 of his citizens died during the war.

"What did you do to stop him?"

"I never really did stop him. After the nationalist had won and the violence had somewhat stopped, he disappeared. But he never possessed me like your 2p is doing to you!"

"After we lost against them, I started feeling very different. I apparently was creating plans for war during the last meeting."

"Apparently?" Romano asked.

"Whenever Luciano is controlling me, I cannot see what I'm doing."

"What an asshole." Italy nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. "He kept talking about power." Italy nearly choked.

"What did he say about power?" Italy slammed his cup down.

"Something about more countries under your control, the more power you'll have," Spain said. Italy squeezed his cup of coffee, breaking it. He knew exactly what Luciano was trying to do. He was going to create the most powerful empire the world has ever seen.

"Veneziano!" Romano got up looking at the broken glass piercing his brother's hand. Italy looked at his brother and Spain with dark pink eyes.

"Leave! Before I capture you again," Italy growled, trying to hold Luciano back. Spain grabbed Romano's arm and ran for the door.

* * *

Germany was eating bratwurst and beer with his brother Prussia for lunch. Germany was perhaps the strongest in holding his 2p back from the rest of the countries but even for him, it was getting difficult. Lutz filled Germany's mind with thoughts of blood, guts, and sadistic killings.

"Ay West! You've been kind of quiet. And you haven't even touched your beer! What's bothering you?" Prussia spoke with his mouth full.

"It's nothing." Germany turned to look at Prussia. The first thing he saw was his brother's red eyes. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why are your eyes red?" Prussia looked extremely confused.

"I was born with them."

"But haven't you noticed you're one of the only countries with red eyes."

"Yeah, that's what makes me awesome!" Prussia grinned. Germany grunted in anger.

"Could you answer that without saying 'awesome?'" He nearly knocked over his beer from his anger.

"Geez, bro, calm down. I honestly don't know." Germany sighed.

"Well, alot of the 2p's have red eyes." Prussia looked at his brother, almost disgusted. Prussia learned about the incident with the 2p's from Estonia's blog.

"You think that me, your own brother, is a 2p?"

"I was just a little suspicious."

"I'm not one of those losers." Prussia chugged down the rest of his beer.

"Do you ever hear voices in your head?" Prussia lowered his cup slowly and turned slightly to look at his brother's face.

"I did when I fought Austria." Prussia had a serious look on his face Germany has never seen before. "I was gaining so much power and land but yet a voice kept telling me to stop and think. He kept predicting I would end up losing my power if I kept abusing it." Germany stared at his brother with wide eyes. Prussia's 2p sounded extremely different than everyone else's. "The voice was right." Prussia sat there quietly, reminiscing when his country was eventually dissolved during World War II. Germany has never seen Prussia like this. Germany started drinking his beer to make his brother feel a little more excitable but Prussia kept staring at his food depressingly.

"I'm sorry I brought it up. It's just, my 2p has been attempting to take control over me. I need to find the most information I can to stop him."

"You shouldn't."

"What?"

"If that voice I heard was my 2p, I didn't listen to him, and look what happened to me. I lost all my land, my resources, my prestige, and my power." With that, Prussia got up and walked to his room. Germany thought about what Prussia was saying. Perhaps the 2p were trying to help them. But their ways were so sick and twisted. He threw out his brother's leftover wurst and beer along with his. They both seemed to have lost their appetite.


	16. Chapter 15: The Experiment

**Chapter 15: The Experiment**

Over the course of the past few days, the baltic states have been collecting more data about the 2P. After seeing what was happening to Russia after he visited, they wanted the 2p's gone.

"Hey guys! Come here for a second?" Estonia called from his desk. Lithuania and Latvia looked over the screen at what appears to a scanned picture of an old script. "I found this incantation that says it should release evil from a possessed being. I think it might be able to work on Russia and the others on getting the 2p out!"

"Yes, but shouldn't we leave all the castings and spells to England?" Latvia looked through the incantation. It seemed to have been made up of multiple languages.

"Well he's busy being possessed himself, I'm sure." Estonia printed the two page incantation. "Alright. Let's go to Russia's house."

"Are you sure about this, Estonia? He might get angry at us like last time!" Lithuania voice trembled.

"We've been through hell with him anyway, haven't we Latvia!" Latvia nodded in agreement.

"Fine let's go." He pulled out his small pocket knife out of his pocket and showed it to Latvia and Estonia. "Just in case decides to be Mr. 2pRussia." The others nodded in agreement. Estonia grabbed some rope and Latvia took his flashlight. They grabbed their coats to head to Russia's home.

Russia's home was barely lit. The atmosphere was cold and unsaturated. Even more so than usual.

"I don't think he's home. Let's go back." Lithuania started walking the other way but Estonia grabbed him.

"C'mon Lithuania! You're the oldest of all of us, man up would you?" Lithuania sighed and walked up to the door. He knocked quietly. No one answered.

"Umm..Mr. Russia. Are you home? It's Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia." Latvia quivered as he spoke. Again, no one replied.

"I told you he wasn't..." Lithuania was cut off by the creaking of floorboards. It was coming from inside the house. The door creaked open slightly but it was too dark to see Russia's face.

"Why are you three here? Didn't I tell you to hide." His voice was harsh, very different from Russia's normal voice.

"Yes, we're sorry to bother you Mr. Russia, but we might have found a cure for you." Estonia stepped closer to the door.

"No, I don't want you three to get hurt." His voice softened, he sounded more like his old self. The Baltic's never thought Russia actually cared for their safety. Lithuania walked closer to the door.

"It's ok Mr. Russia. We'll be fine. We just really want to help you." Lithuania was no longer trembling and seemed to have been touched by Russia's caring words. Russia sighed and opened the door, revealing Russia's bloody coat and tattered scarf. His eyes were their usual violet but they looked glazed, almost lifeless. Latvia and Estonia nearly had a heart-attack from seeing his terrible condition. Lithuania tried to keep his rare, calm composure. He sat Mr. Russia down at the nearest chair.

"Alright, what is this cure you speak of?"

"It's an incantation. It is said to release evil from the possessed." Estonia pulled out the papers showing it to Russia.

"Are you positive it will work?"

"No, but it's worth a try." Then Latvia reached his rope and began tying Russia's arms to the back of the chair.

"Eh? What is this for?" Estonia began helping Latvia tie him for the sake of time while Lithuania calmed Russia.

"It is just in case your 2p decides to come out during the experiment."

"I don't think simple rope will hold me back." He looked up at Lithuania.

"It's all we got." Russia's arms were tightly secured against the chair. Estonia readjusted his glasses and lifted the paper to his face. Latvia watched Russia's eyes carefully, waiting for a change in color. Russia suddenly winced, gritting his teeth.

"Hurry. I can't hold him back much longer." His eyes were beginning to change hues. His hair was darkening. Estonia began reciting the incantation.

"Ukhodit! Ukhodit! Beasts of revenge and spite. Izzust! Izzust! Leave the innocent. Poletama! Poletama!" As Estonia spoke, Russia began to growl ferociously at the trio. Estonia read on. "Flee to your own world, wretched creatures. Meile! Meile! Let love return to its being." Russia rocked the chair violently back and forth. Lithuania held the chair down and stared at his master with serious eyes. Latvia hid under a table in terror. Estonia backed away as he continued his recitation even louder. "The allies of good shall defeat you, Vmeste! Satan be gone! Satan be gone! Satan be gone!" The rest of the chant continued multiple times. Even Lithuania began to join.

"Satan be gone! Satan be gone! Satan be gone" He yelled as he stared at Russia's cold red eyes. Russia continued to growl and stared back at Lithuania.

Estonia reached the end of the chant and looked up to find Russia's eyes closed, his body still. Lithuania backed away. He looked lifeless.

"Oh god! Did we kill him?" Latvia whimpered under the table.

Suddenly Russia pulled his arms apart, tearing the rope with ease. He got up slowly and opened his eyes, revealing the incantation was useless with his menacing ruby eyes. He had a sinister look on his face almost like a killer dog. He flung the chair at Latvia, breaking the table and puncturing him with splinters.

"Oh crap! Latvia!" Estonia yelled. Russia lifted up another chair, holding it above Latvia. Then something tackled Russia, making him drop the chair merely inches away from Latvia's head. It was Lithuania. He wrestled Russia with all his strength as Estonia helped up Latvia. He had multiple bleeding cuts from the debris the broken furniture left behind. Russia slammed Lithuania against the wall, making it crack along with Lithuania's spine. Lithuania was in excruciating pain.

"Run..." Lithuania grunted to Estonia and Latvia but Russia was already charging towards them. He pushed Latvia into the ground and then turned around to Estonia. He held him up by the neck.

"It's time for you all to die!" Russia roared as he squeezed Estonia's neck tighter. Lithuania gathered all his strength and limped to Russia. He took out his pocket knife, puncturing it into Russia's shoulder. He released Estonia from his grip and turned to Lithuania.

"You little..." He was interrupted by the sound of Lithuania's knife dropping to the floor. Lithuania held Russia's waist tightly, crying.

"Russia...please. Remember the...dreams." Russia glared at the injured Lithuania. "The warm place...with sunflowers." Russia blinked. His mind flash-backed to when Lithuania was asleep on his shoulder and when they shared their dreams with each other after The Great Depression. Russia felt his old self regaining power. He found his own arms starting to wrap around his old friend's shoulders. Estonia and Latvia looked at them in shock. A single tear strolled down Russia's face. "I...remember the sunflowers."


	17. Chapter 16: Scars

**Chapter 16: Scars**

Despite the 2p epidemic occurring, Germany called both Italy and Japan for some training. Germany didn't explain why, but he said attendance was mandatory.

Italy grinned walking into the training session, he carried his knives between his right fingers. He was wearing a dark, scuffed up clothes. Obviously wasn't himself.

Japan had his usual emotionless stare but his eyes were even more lifeless. They were as red as blood. He held his katana firmly in his left hand.

Germany's purple eyes glared at his two comrades. "I called you two for training today. The reason is this: we will still be waging war against the allies but this is my own decision. I've realized something over the past few days." He began to walk slowly around the two. "Brutality is the only way to earn power. And as you two already know." He leaned in closer to the two. "Power is everything."

Germany's regimen was harsh, almost cruel. He forced the two to run twice as many laps as before while carrying heavy buckets of water. They had no breaks yet they didn't seem to complain. Italy was enjoying himself. He made them jump over a large fire pit. Both Japan and Italy burned their legs severely. They still didn't complain. The final exercise was to run continuously around the track. He didn't give them a set number to stop. He just told them to keep running or else they'd be punished. The heat was extreme and the two were sweating, becoming dehydrated. They took off their boots and their shirts but it barely helped.

Italy naturally started to slow down after several laps. His legs were having trouble holding him up, although he wanted to keep running. Germany noticed and grasped his whip tightly, whacking Italy straight across the back. Italy cringed then froze. Germany stared at Italy's back dripping blood.

"Oh, so that's how we're doing things now." Italy turned his head, revealing a wide, twisted smile. He pounced on Germany, knocking them both to the ground. He leaned extremely close to his face, their lips nearly touching. Germany closed his eyes as Italy tugged him closer. Italy's lips met Germany's but only for a short moment. Italy's knife dug deep into Germany's cheek. He shook Italy off of him, wiping the blood dripping from his face. Italy grinned. "I returned the favor," he hissed.

"Why did you do that?" Germany's eyes were their normal blue again. His shock must've broken Lutz's control.

"Manipulation is a form of brutality, no?" Italy picked himself up and wiped the dirt off his knees. His smile started to fade as he saw more blood roll down Germany's cheek. Germany's eyes were filled with tears, something Italy has never seen before. He looked like his heart was just torn right out of him.

"Germany!" He ran to his friend, embracing him tightly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! It's Luciano, please forgive me."

"I..." Germany stopped as he felt blood run against his hand. It was coming from Italy's back. "I should be apologizing."

Japan eventually came around the corner and saw his two friends hugging each other, both bleeding heavily. Like usual, he refrained from speaking and came up to the two. Immediately, Germany released Italy.

"I better patch up this thing before it gets infected," Germany said wiping more blood off his face. He looked at Italy's scratched back. The wound was deep. "You better come with me Italy." But Germany was for once very nervous to be with Italy. He was more dangerous than Germany thought.

"Ve. I'm starting to get dizzy." Italy had trouble standing back up. He nearly fell back down but Germany was able to catch him.

"Training dismissed, Japan." Japan nodded, wiping the sweat off his face.

* * *

By the time Italy and Germany reached Germany's house, Italy was barely conscious and Germany's cheek was numb from loss of blood. Germany set Italy carefully down on his bed. As he he walked by the mirror to get the first-aid supplies, he noticed he looked alot more like Lutz. The scar was nearly identical to his.

He returned with some cloths, needles, and threads. Italy's blood was streaming down his sides, staining the bed.

"Alright Italy, just relax ok. I'm going to stitch your cut. It's going to sting." Germany threaded the needle and knelt down besides Italy.

"Ok," Italy muffled. Germany began carefully sewing Italy's long windy cut. As he stitched, the full impact of the situation began to take hold on him. The countries were becoming extremely threatening to one another. Someone's going to end up getting killed. It seems the only thing the 2p's wanted were wars. Italy started whimpering as Germany was in the middle of stitching.

"I know it hurts. But I still have alot to go."

"It's not that," Italy murmured. "I'm just scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Scared that I might kill someone." Italy sighed and continued to whimper into Germany's pillow. Germany wasn't sure how to respond since he, himself, felt the same way. He finally finished stitching Italy's back. He cleaned off the blood with the cloth.

"Alright, you're done." Italy got up and looked at Germany's face.

"Do you want me to stitch your scar?" Italy asked. Knowing how clumsy Italy was, Germany didn't want to take any chances. But how would he do it on himself? He'd be safer off if Italy did it.

"That would be nice." He cleaned the needle and grabbed a new cloth, handing the tools off to Italy. "Please be careful."

"I know." Italy placed his hands carefully over Germany's face. He began stitching the wound from the top. He moved slowly and very carefully, trying not to make any mistakes. He breathed softly, Germany could feel his cold breath against his face. Germany stared into Italy's honey eyes as he continued to stitch. They looked so tired and stressed but the color was very bright and saturated. He never noticed how vibrant Italy's eyes were since Italy's eyes were usually closed. Soon, Italy was done stitching Germany's scar. He walked him to the mirror. He did a perfect job.

"Where did you learn that?"

"Ve! Don't you know Italians make the best doctors!" He smiled.


	18. Chapter 17: Spreading

**Chapter 17: Spreading**

"We meet again, Antonio." Spain heard a voice deep in his head as he was watching TV with Romano. He gasped and looked down at his feet.

"You ok?" Romano looked at Spain. Spain kept silent waiting for the voice to return.

"You remember me don't you?" The sharp voice rang in his head. It was the voice of his 2p. Spain continued to stare at his feet wide-eyed. Romano was confused.

"Spain?"

"Your little underling there; he's grown since I saw him last."

"He's not my underling." Spain spoke.

"Who are you talking to?" Spain finally turned to speak to Romano.

"My 2p, he's back." Romano's mouth dropped.

"What!"

"He's a feisty one isn't he, Antonio? His 2p must be powerful."

"He has one too?"

"I'm quite sure. Everyone has a 2p." Romano tried to listen to him as if he was eavesdropping on a phone call. Trying to hear the other line.

"What are you here for, Santino?"

"To finish the job I didn't get to seventy years ago." Santino's words echoed in Spain's head and Spain couldn't help but grip his head and groan.

"What's he saying, Spain!"

"He's coming Romano," Spain murmured. Romano gritted his teeth in frustration. As if his brother wasn't enough, now his best friend. "I'll try to hold him back, Romano. I'm more worried for you. He mentioned you having a 2p too."

"What do these bastards want from us?"

"All they want is to cause havoc. That's all they want." Spain looked at the ceiling, rubbing his eyes.

* * *

After seeing America so frustrated with him, Canada has been quietly sulking in his room. Canada was really good at forgive and forgetting things but for some reason, seeing America like that really stung him. He was so used to the optimistic, constantly eating America he'd grown up with.

He's been hearing voices. He couldn't really make up words but the voice was very low and scratchy.

In the middle of the night, he heard a rustling near his closet.

"Umm...hello?" Canada whispered as he sat up. The rustling stopped. "Oh no, it's a burglar!" Canada thought to himself. He got up slowly and tip-toed to his closet. He peeked in expecting to see a robber but his closet was empty. There was blood on the floor. Canada jumped.

"Oh! Where's that from! Is that my blood?" Canada scanned over himself to see if he had any scars or scratches. He was fine. "Huh..." Canada decided to head back to bed to clean it up later. When he turned around he saw a dark figure standing by his bed.

"Who...who are you?" Canada slowly walked toward the man. He was absolutely terrified but decided he needed to start standing up for himself. "This is my house... You need to leave." The figure didn't reply. Blood dripped down his sides. "Oh, you're hurt. Do...do you need help?"

"Help." The figure spoke. It's voice resembled that of the voice Canada's been hearing in his head. The voice would kind of sound like Canada's if Canada would actually speak up.

"Yeah, I mean, if you need help. I have some bandages and..."

"Don't need em." The figure turned around revealing glowing purple eyes, much more vivid then Canada's violet eyes.

"Oh, ummm...ok." Canada continued to step closer to get a better look at the stranger. "What's your name?"

"Name?"

"Yes, your name." The figure finally stepped forward. He was Canada's 2p. His hair was nappy and dirty. His curl hanged in front of his face. He held his head low and his expression was serious. He wore a dark red uniform that was stained with blood near his abdomen.

"None of your business." He grimaced.

"Well, you are in my house, so I have the right to know," Canada whispered. His counterpart finally cracked a smile and walked up to his 1p.

"You got spunk. I like it. I'm Matt."

"Oh, my human names Matthieu! But everyone calls me Canada." Canada smiled.

"You think I don't know that." Matt's grin disappeared and he pulled Canada up to him.

"Please don't hurt me." Canada cowered. He didn't like the idea of standing up for himself anymore.

"No, my friend. I won't hurt you. I'm here to help you."

"How?"

"You know that little America kid you had a little...confrontation with."

"Oh, well, that wasn't his fault. He's being controlled..."

"By his 2p, yada yada. But don't you think he was even a jerk before then."

"I can't just call my brother a jerk...that's rude." Canada crossed his arms. Matt grasped his shoulders.

"Just admit it. He's a total douche. He treats you like trash." Canada shrunk in his counterparts arms.

"He does?"

"Are you blind? Yes! He treats you like trash. Well, I say it's time we teach him a lesson?" Canada stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. "You got some muscle on you for a pussycat. And some spunk. You just need a little toughening up." He looked down at his wound. "I'd do it myself, but as you can see, I'm not in top condition." Canada nodded.

"Ok. I guess I could roughen him up a little. That's what brothers are for...right?"

"Right."

"So what do I have to do?"

"Just stand still." His 2p punched him through the stomach. His fist was as hard as a rock, nearly breaking Canada in two. He coughed out blood, and tried holding himself up.

"You..." Canada lifted his arm, about to punch Matt back. "You...asshole..." He swung at Matt but Matt caught his fist.

"Trust me, I'm helping you right now." He squeezed Canada's hand tightly.

Canada woke up on the floor by his bed. He lifted himself up, realizing he wasn't injured. Was it a dream? He brushed himself off and thought about what Matt told him. About how America treated him like trash. He started believing it, growing more and more angry, replacing his built-up depression with rage. He went back to bed but couldn't fall asleep. He was too busy thinking about what to do with his brother.


	19. Chapter 18: The Night at Germany's

**Chapter 18: The Night at Germany's**

By the time Italy had finished stitching Germany's wound, it was nearly midnight. Too late for Italy to walk home himself without getting scared.

"Eh, Germany?" Italy looked out the window. The streets outside were dark and a thick fog covered the distance.

"What?"

"Could I stay here tonight?" Germany sighed.

"Italy, your house isn't too far away."

"But Germany! It's so dark and I don't like the dark. You know I don't like the dark! The dark..." Italy continued to ramble on.

"Alright! You can stay." Germany finally gave in to Italy's constant jabber.

"Yay! Thank you Germany!" Italy turned and smiled at Germany until his eyes caught the scar on Germany's face. Then he had a rush of guilt. That scar might never go away. It was deep. Germany noticed Italy staring at him.

"It'll be fine. I've gotten worse things done to me." He touched his scar, feeling the stitches.

"But it's different when your own friend did it to you," Italy cried.

"It wasn't your fault Italy."

"No, it is. Can't you see! Luciano and I are the same person." Italy lifted up and looked at his dirty, blood-stained hands. "We are the same." Germany reached out his arms, grabbing Italy's wrists.

"No, Italy. You two are completely different. I know you, Feliciano. You're not like Luciano."

"But I am, Ludwig! The only thing we both want is power. I don't have any. He's trying to help me. I just... don't like the way he's helping me." Italy pulled his hands away from Germany's.

"You have alot more power than you think." Germany walked to his closet to change out of his uniform. Italy walked over to the mirror to look at his back. The stitches ran all the way from his right shoulder down to the middle of his left side. He couldn't help but notice how tough he looked now. He may not have the muscular build Germany had but now he has a big scar to show off. Perhaps it would make him look more powerful.

"What're you doing?" Germany came out of his closet wearing some box-shorts and a tank-top. He noticed Italy admiring himself in the mirror.

"I look like such a cool guy now, Germany! Germany, don't I look cool?" Italy pivoted around, showing Germany his scar.

"Yes, you look cool," Germany spoke sarcastically. Of course, Italy couldn't catch the sarcasm.

"The coolest!"

"Alright, let's go to bed. It's already past midnight."

"Ve, sounds good!"

* * *

Italy and Germany slept in the same bed since Italy was too scared to be in a room by himself. But Italy wasn't able to fall asleep. He felt tired, yet he was wide awake.

"Germany? Are you still awake?" Italy whispered. He didn't get a response. All he heard was Germany's soft breathing. "I guess not." Italy got up slowly so he wouldn't disturb Germany and walked back to the mirror. He stared at his tired eyes. He looked at his flat chest and skinny arms (since he left his shirt at the training grounds). He had no muscle mass whatsoever.

"Why do I look so weak?" Italy pouted at his reflection as he continued to scan over himself. His feet were red and burnt from jumping over the fire pit multiple times. His knees had a few scrapes from attacking Germany. He turned around again and stared at the scar. Suddenly, memories started flashing back into Italy's mind.

He remembered when he was young and how many countries bullied him. He remembered Austria and how he never gave Italy any pasta. Then he remembered Holy Rome offering Italy to join his empire. The last memory was of Germany meeting him in the woods during World War I.

"I'm always just the sidekick. Just some little nation to take advantage of," Italy spoke to himself. Then another flashback.

It was of a few hours ago, when he cut deep into Germany's face. Germany's look of terror stuck into Italy's memory. He pressed his head into his hands. Those blue, teary eyes. He looked so helpless. It gave Italy mixed feelings. He felt so strong, yet so cruel.

When Italy lifted his head out of his hands, he saw his eyes were yet again pink. Yet his conscience was still there. It wasn't like he was being controlled. It was like he was changing. He could feel his personal desires changing, his personality switching. He knew he was right. Him and Luciano were the same person.

Italy slowly crept back to the bed, holding the knives he kept in his pocket tightly in his left hand. He walked in front of Germany, who was in a deep sleep.

"Germany." Italy stroked Germany's hair carefully, combing it with his fingers. Germany's eyes slowly opened.

"Italy?" He whispered.

"It's ok. Relax." Italy's voice had changed and Germany noticed it quickly. He jumped out of bed, pinning Italy against the wall.

"Italy! You got to snap out of it!" Germany shouted. Italy looked at him with serious eyes.

"Snap out of it? I'm not in anyone's control Germany! This is my own mind!" Italy struggled to free himself from Germany's grip.

"You've gone insane!" Germany held him back as hard as he could. Italy was putting up a good fight. Italy began to growl and mutter Italian words as he continued to struggle out of Germany's grip. The shouting and the growling was starting to stir in Germany's mind. He finally released Italy and like a cat, Italy scratched Germany's arm with his knives in seconds. Although they were small, the cuts were deep enough to sting.

"You little weakling." Germany muttered through his gritted teeth. "You think a few tiny scrapes are going to hurt me?" He kicked Italy across the room. Italy slammed into a dresser by his bed. He shook it off and grinned as he looked up.

"And you think I'm the one who's insane?" Italy threw one of his knives straight into Germany's thigh. Germany grunted and pulled the bloody knife out. He charged at Italy, tackling him into the ground. They rolled back and forth on the carpet, punching each other. They fought brutally. Blood littered the floor. But both of them seemed to enjoy themselves. Like they were showing off their "alpha-male". Finally when Germany was on top of Italy and Italy was nearly incapable of fighting any longer, he leaned in, his lips touching Germany's. Germany lowered his fisted hand and pulled away briefly.

"Just don't...cut me again..." He breathed.

"I don't think I can promise you that," Italy grinned. Despite the warning, Germany leaned in and began to kiss Italy passionately. It's as if their pure violence burst into a cloud of fluff and romance. Italy's new tactic was romantic, distracting pursuits. It would always seem to catch Germany off guard. It was a good tactic.


	20. Chapter 19: The Italian Empire

**Chapter 19: The Italian Empire**

Germany awoke in his basement/beer cellar. His arms were scratched, battered, and bloodied. He felt weak, extremely weak. He was leaning against a wall, right beside one of his shelves of high quality German beer. He slowly got up, barely holding himself up. He lifted his head and was able to see a blurry figure sitting in a chair near the exit.

"You're finally awake." It was Italy. Germany grunted and struggled to speak.

"What am I...doing here?"

"I'll make this quick for you. I'm tired of being your subordinate."

"What? Italy you're not my..."

"Let me finish!" Italy hissed angrily. "I'm always someone's little shadow. Their underling. Well, I've had enough of it. I believe this will be the start of a new age! An Italian Empire!" Italy got up and walked to the frail German. "And you Germany. You're my first conquered nation. Congratulations!" He grinned, circling around him.

"Feliciano, listen to me. I told you, you have alot more power than you think. You don't need to become an empire."

"Lies!" Italy kicked Germany, slamming him into the ground. He couldn't do anything about it. He was barely strong enough to move. "I never had any power. I'm always the nation that's hiding. The nation that doesn't mean anything to anybody!" Italy walked over to one of Germany's beer shelves. "Not even one bottle of wine? Really, Germany." Italy shifted his eyes towards Germany trying to get up. "I think I'll convert this place into a wine cellar instead." Germany grunted and was able to stand up.

"Don't...touch...my beer." Germany limped toward Italy with fiery violet eyes.

"Heh, and what are you going to do about it?" Italy chuckled as Germany lifted his fist to punch Italy. "I feel bad for you Germany, so I'll cut you a deal. You could be my partner in crime! We'll be the 'ItaliaGerman Empire!'" Germany swung his fist but Italy was able to dodge it easily.

"I don't trust you, you little bastard," Germany growled.

"Suit yourself then. Be my prisoner." Italy walked to the door. "I have some business to attend to. Don't bother trying to escape because if you do, I'll find you. I'll find you, and I'll kill you." Italy closed the door behind him. Germany screamed with rage.

* * *

Italy covered himself in one of Germany's coats and took one of his handguns as he headed back to his home. It was around morning so Romano should still be sleeping in his room. Italy wanted to finish what he didn't get to last time. Romano and Spain were his next target.

He arrived at his home, gun in hand. As he approached Romano's room, he noticed that it was more silent than usual. No snoring. No stirring. Italy peeked into the room to find Romano wasn't there.

"Damn it. Where is he?" Italy searched the room, checking the bathroom and the closet.

"Looking for me, fratello?" Italy turned around. In the door frame was his brother. His hair was perfectly groomed, his curl hanging nicely on the side. His hair was a golden brown. He was smiling, unlike usual. His eyes were maroon.

Italy grinned. "I see you've met Flavio."

"Yeah, I did." Romano shut the door behind him. "So what's up with the gun?"

"The gun. The gun's actually for you." Italy pulled the gun up to Romano's forehead.

"Gosh! You'd kill your own fratello? That's hurtful." Romano pouted playfully, hiding his grin. Italy widened his eyes as he felt cold metal against his side. Romano was also armed with a gun.

"You're smarter than I thought." Italy lowered the gun as Romano lowered his.

"So about all this Italian Empire thing, I'm Italy too. I think I deserve to be more than your lacky." Romano patted Italy's shoulder. "I think we'd do much better as allies!"

"I'm listening."

"Yeah, we could conquer double the nations if we work together! I was already making plans to attack Spain!" Romano offered his hand. "So what do you say?" Italy looked down at Romano's hand. He shook it and looked at his brother.

"It's a deal. I already have Germany under my control."

"Fantastic! I'll have Spain by tomorrow." Romano grinned. He looked over his brother's scratched and dirty body. "Geez, Feli, you really need a shower or something."

"I'm fine."

"No, I think you should. And after that, I'll fix up your hair. It's really messy."

"God no."


	21. Chapter 20: Joan of Arc

**Chapter 20: Joan of Arc**

"Francis! Francis please, help me." A woman's voice cried from the distance. France looked up to see a beautiful girl in shining bright armor, tied to a burning stake. Her skin was beginning to char. France reached out his hand as she reached for his. Their fingertips touched but by then, her body was nearly ashes. Tears dropped from her porcelain face as she dissolved into the fire.

"Joan." France whispered as he got up from bed. It was just a nightmare. Or more like an old memory. "Mon amour." France took a deep breath, feeling like he's been stabbed in the heart. She meant alot to France. She did so much for him yet he felt he did nothing for her in return.

After getting up from bed, he took a cigarette from his almost-empty box. He smoked it and felt himself relax a little. But when the smoke hit his face, all he could remember was the burning smell of Joan at the stake. He coughed and wheezed, dropping the cigarette.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" He looked into the mirror at his dark, hollow face. He used to look so full of life. Young and joyful. But now he looked old, tired. He picked up the ashy cigarette from the floor, throwing it into the trash. Suddenly the papers in his trashcan began to burn. Smoke flew into France's face. He began to cough again as he dusted the smoke away.

"You could have saved me." He heard a faint voice as the smoke started to surround him.

"What do you want from me?" France growled.

"You left me to die, Francis." The voice was shaky, like the person was crying.

"Joan?" France could only see smoke. He reached out his hand trying to find her in the smoke.

"You left me to die," She repeated.

"Mon amour, please." France continued to search around for Joan. "I am sorry. I could not save you. It was just not possible."

"No it was. You could have saved me."

"I'm sorry, Joan! Please." France suddenly felt a sharp burn on his hand. The voice stopped and the smoke evaporated. His hand was right above the candle on his vanity. It was all just an illusion. He sighed as he looked at his burnt finger. "Could I have saved her?" He asked himself. She was burnt for charges of heresy. The charges were imposed by England but the trial took place in France's land. Her prison was also in France's land. And the charges. The charges were false, yet she was still burnt.

"I could have saved her!" He slammed his fist into the mirror. The glass shattered into hundreds of pieces, piercing France's hand. His once beautiful, expensive vanity was now just rubble scattered across the floor, mixed with the blood of his hand. He looked into what was once his mirror. He only saw half of his face in the last piece of the mirror that remained intact. He watched as a dark tear ran down his eye. "Why didn't I save her?"


	22. Chapter 21: The Brothers

**Chapter 21: The Brothers**

Dragging his old, wooden hockey stick, Canada trudged through the pouring rain to get to America's house. He's been trying to bundle up all his anger against his brother, but he could no longer hold it in. He needed to teach America a lesson.

America stepped out of his garage with debris covering his tank-top. As he walked to the kitchen to grab a water, he heard a knock at the door.

"It better not be England." He walked up to the door and looked through the peephole. Canada looked at the door innocently, with his hands behind his back. His hockey stick was hidden behind him. America swung open the door. "What do you want, Canadia?" America asked impatiently. "I'm in the middle of something."

Canada smiled innocently and asked "Could I come in, bro? It's pouring out there."

"No. Just tell me why you're here." America leaned to the left and saw that something was behind Canada's back. Then he looked at his brother's face. His innocence had disappeared. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were in an unpleasant sneer.

"I'm tired of you treating me like I'm some pile of shit!" He stepped into the house and shut the door behind him with his leg. "So let me return the favor!" He pulled back his heavy hockey stick and swung it right at America's head. America ducked, feeling the hockey stick graze through his hair.

America roared in rage and began swinging his fists. Canada dodged a few but eventually got a fist to the cheek. He felt a tooth come loose, and spit it out. He then swung his hockey stick at the back of America's knees causing him to fall over, slamming his head hard against the floor.

"Shit." America hissed under his breath. Canada then placed the head of the hockey stick right up to America's face, as if his head was just a giant puck.

"Let's play." He pulled his stick up and then swung down at extreme speed. America had no time to react. He felt the splintered wood cut through the skin on his face. As Canada followed through with his swing, America's head twisted and he felt the nerves and tendons in his neck tearing. The blow knocked the wind out of him. His neck was bent at an awkward, unnatural angle. He laid motionless on the floor. Canada smiled and scanned over America. Then his grin faded into a worried frown. America's body was limp as Canada turned him over with the hockey stick. Canada felt his heart stop.

"America?" He stuttered. No response. Canada backed away, his hands shaking with fear. "I killed him. I killed him." He repeated to himself. He couldn't stand looking at his brother's motionless body. He turned to face the other way. Canada's hands were shaking and his breathing was heavy. He felt as if he were having a panic attack. "How...how could I?" He spoke in breaths. He couldn't help but feel a little proud of himself, but that feeling was flooded by his guilt and fear.

Suddenly, a sharp pain in his right side. He felt himself being pulled to the ground. He slammed into the ground and looked down to see his jacket torn and blood spilling from his side. Canada got up slowly to look at what had just hit him. America's figure was in a low swinging position. His head was tilted to the right, his neck still twisted. He held a bloody screw-encrusted bat. It was what he was working on in the garage. While Canada was looking away, he was able to crawl to his garage and pull it out.

"Like my new bat, Canadia? Because it has your name written all over it!" His voice was filled with revenge and animal-like rage. He swung his bat down. Canada was able to roll-over, only getting part of his jacket snagged by the bat. He quickly stood up, despite feeling weak from the blood loss and swung his hockey stick towards America right as America swung his bat. The two blood-covered weapons clashed into each other, creating a sound that echoed across the house.

The two were evenly matched, unable to break the other's weapon. They stared at each other's eyes with strong hatred. But that was all they could do. Stare. Both were so injured and weak, they couldn't fight anymore.

Suddenly bullets shot through America's front door windows. The bullets flew merely inches from the two brothers. A dark shadow appeared in the broken window, then a hand reached into the house and unlocked the door from the inside. America and Canada could only watch in shock as a smiling man opened the door.

"Goodness, what happened here?" England asked as he stepped over a pool of blood. America and Canada just stared at their older brother as if he were a complete lunatic. Which he was.

"Why...why did you shoot my window?" America was finally able to speak.

"I knocked a few times but you weren't answering. You were too busy playing with your brother here." England smiled. "I guess I got a little impatient." He giggled and looked at the gun in his hand.

"Why are you here?" Canada asked.

"Ah! Right! Why don't you boys take a seat?" The English Man gestured at America's blood-covered chairs nearby as if everything going on was completely normal. The two just stood still looking at England with disbelief. "I said, take a seat." England lifted his gun, pointing it back and forth at the two. They immediately stumbled to the chairs.

"Alright, lads! Well, while I was drinking tea the other day, I suddenly remembered something! Before all this Second Player hullabaloo, wasn't Germany going to declare war on me? It completely slipped my mind!" England chuckled as his two brothers nodded nervously. "So, I say it's better to be safe then sorry! I will be calling a World Meeting this Sunday to declare war on him first! And if all the countries are there, I might as well declare war on Russia too!" He spoke like war was only a game.

"What does this have to do with us, though?" Canada asked as he was examining the injury on his side.

"Well, you know me! I don't like working alone! Would my two lovely little brothers like to join me in war?" England innocently smiled at them. They both sneered at him, obviously unhappy to work together. Then England's cute, innocent smile disappeared and a hideously disfigured grin spread across his face. "It's not like you have much choice." He raised his gun.

"Fine," America said angrily.

"Ok," Canada growled.

"Oh, this is going to be so much fun!" England wrapped his arms around his two brothers. They reluctantly leaned in and both felt the cold metal of his gun slide against their backs. It made them shiver.


	23. Chapter 22: Blizzard

**Chapter 22: Blizzard**

Lithuania woke up in bed with Estonia and Latvia hovering over him. He shot up.

"What! Where am I?" Estonia and Latvia gestured him to relax.

"It's ok! You passed out after your fight with Russia." Estonia said. "You're uhh…pretty beat up."

"How long have I been out?"

"Two days." Latvia grabbed a glass of water and handed it to Lithuania.

"Oh goodness." Lithuania took a sip of his water. "How's Mr. Russia." Estonia and Latvia looked at each other nervously.

"He's been in his room ever since you passed out. He only comes out to eat," Latvia said.

"Wait! I'm in his house!"

"There's a blizzard outside. We're stuck here until it dies down or else we'll freeze to death. We were planning on leaving yesterday but you were still unconscious," Estonia said as he looked out the window. Snow and sleet were slamming into it. Some snow was accumulated on the windowsill.

"Would you…go get him for me?" Lithuania sounded reluctant but still concerned. Latvia looked at him confused.

"Why?" Estonia yelled.

"I need to see him," Lithuania's voice became stern. Estonia and Latvia reluctantly nodded and walked out of the room. Lithuania took a deep sigh and looked down at his bed sheets.

"He's nothing." Lithuania heard something mumble to him.

"Huh, are you two still there?" Lithuania looked up at the door but no one was there. "How strange."

"You don't mean anything to him." The mumbling was louder this time. Lithuania's eyes widened.

"That voice." He recognized the voice. Before falling unconscious, he remembered someone talking to him, mumbling the same words with the same voice. "Who are you?"

Before the voice could reply, Lithuania heard a crashing coming from the living room. Then he could hear Latvia's whimpering followed by Estonia's pleading. Then he heard what seemed to be Russia's voice. He sounded angry, unlike himself. Then the shuffling of feet started becoming louder and louder until Russia's large figure was in the door. He looked up at Lithuania with contempt.

"Oh, hello Mr. Russia," Lithuania said nervously as he got out of his bed. Russia simply glared at him without a response. Lithuania had trouble balancing himself, but was able to stand without feeling too much pain. As he looked up, he noticed Russia's shoulder was still cut from Lithuania's knife. "I'm, uh, sorry I cut your shoulder," Lithuania spoke.

"I bet you enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Pardon?" Lithuania tilted his head in confusion. Russia narrowed his eyes.

"Being able to hurt your superior."

"No, Mr. Russia. I didn't enjoy that at all."

"You're lying." Russia gritted his teeth and slowly approached Lithuania.

"I tell the truth." Lithuania backed away nervously. At the time, he knew he didn't enjoy stabbing Russia but now a little part of him is saying he did enjoy it. The feeling of being more powerful than a country much larger than you. He stopped backing away and stood straight, standing his ground.

Russia growled and charged up to him, face to face. Lithuania didn't flinch nor budge. His face was blank: no fear, no anger, no happiness. Russia stared into Lithuania's emerald eyes. He didn't blink. "What got into you?" Russia asked as he continued staring.

"I just realized I shouldn't feel afraid of you," Lithuania replied in a monotone voice.

Russia tried to tackle Lithuania into the wall but he was too quick. Lithuania was behind him in seconds, he jabbed Russia's back with his knife he left on the nightstand. Russia roared and turned around, grasping Lithuania by the collar. Lithuania kicked Russia in the stomach, causing him to release Lithuania. He then quickly jabbed the large Russian multiple times on the arm as Russia screamed in anger. He was finally able to push Lithuania to the ground, immobilizing him. Lithuania's eyes were now a soulless purple. His face was still emotionless, almost paralyzed.

"Oh my gosh!" Latvia covered his mouth with his hands as he saw the two brawling on the ground. Blood splatters covered the floor. Estonia ran to break up the two but stopped as soon as Russia growled at him. Lithuania stared at them with a blank expression.

"This is between us," Lithuania spoke softly.

"You two are going to murder each other!" Latvia squealed.

"He won't murder me."

"What makes you think that?" Russia said as he drew back his fist, ready to punch.

"You have hidden feelings for me. It's pretty evident." Lithuania pulled a small smirk. Russia's eyes widened and he became flustered, redness flooding his face. He got up quickly as did Lithuania. Russia quickly kicked Lithuania's ankles, causing him to fall.

"I'm going back to my room." Russia left the room quickly. Lithuania got up and looked at the two bewildered Baltics.

"Very evident." His smirk disappeared as he wiped Russia's blood off his knife. Estonia grasped Lithuania's shoulder, pulling him towards him. Lithuania and Estonia stared eye to eye.

"Latvia, this isn't Lithuania."

"It's his 2p, isn't it?"

"Yep."


End file.
